


The One That Got Away/ The One That Stayed

by Seaflower



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Love Confessions, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 14:38:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3573371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seaflower/pseuds/Seaflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even the best marriages can be boggled down by self doubt and a lack of communication. </p><p>This work is an inspiration born from my love of dvs future/reincarnation X-Men XMFC/DOFP fanfiction universe, The Courtship.</p><p>Please review!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One That Got Away/ The One That Stayed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dvs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvs/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Courtship](https://archiveofourown.org/works/289033) by [dvs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvs/pseuds/dvs). 



> This is a work of fanfiction born from a love of dvs 'The Courtship' story. I love her future/reincarnation interpretation of X-men XMFC universe. Her depictions and personifications of Prime Charles/Prime Erik and their future self/descendant is amazing. I highly recommend reading her wonderful fic!
> 
> Please understand that this is a fanfiction of a fanfiction born from the hints of a past Logan/Erik relationship. My depiction of events are probably not as awesome or close to how these two worked out in dvs mind.  
> Charles/Erik are my favourite XMFC OTP, however, I also love the idea of Logan/Erik as past lovers. 
> 
> This story is only 3 chapters long, one chapter a week will be posted.

"Five hundred years after the emancipation of the mutants.

Two hundred years after the colonisation of Mars.

One hundred years after static-filled first contact with the extra-terrestrials.

And ten years into the global fixation with puritan fashion..."

'The Courtship' by dvs

* * *

 

** Monday: Midday Telescreen Call **

“Will you be home for dinner?” Charles asks the image of his ginger husband via the Lehmanbot telescreen.

“Unfortunately, no Francine” Erik replied with his _Iknowthiswill_ make you quiver pout.

“Good, because you just paid for a obscenely expensive dinner for Hank and myself tonight. Might invite the boys along, give your accounts a real crash course in bankruptcy.” Charles joke before Erik blows him a kiss before Charles department meeting.

 

** Tuesday: Midday Telescreen Call **

“Louis is driving me crazy!” If I have to give my opinion about seating arrangements or my preference on what napkins look nicer, baby blue or slightly lighter than baby blue, I might force him to swallow bright pink hairgrow pills. It would clash so horribly with his gold dinner suit for his anniversary dinner. How mad would Anna be?” Charles quirks.

Charles mid afternoon calls to Erik was a ritual both men loved; during weeks when both Charles and Erik were neck deep in scientific research and corporate warfare. The calls were deeply appreciated during the times when Charles had to go to Mars for a month or two to review lab results from the newly renovated labs funded by his husband’s generous donation of the Magneto estate to the Xavier Research Foundation. It also provided peace of mind that neither men were kidnapped by some human, mutant, human-mutant terrorist, government splinter and various other hairbrain interest groups, who saw the two gentlemen as an instant money infusion insurance policy.

They’ll have to develop new security measure once they decide to have children. A decision too many people were more than eager to bring up in daily conversation. Usually their calls range from cute, silly, passionate, tense and crazy. However until today, the call has never been one sided.

“Mmm” Erik mumbled, grey blue eyes distant and focus on a datapad in front of him.

People often think that marriage to a telepath must mean that no insecurities or secrets could exist, since both partners communicate so completely without words. Telepathy does allow Erik and I to communicate more fully than most individuals, however, it does not mean that after two years of marriage that I knew all Erik’s secrets, the ones he doesn’t share, nor did my powers prevent me from having the odd worry that I beginning to bore my husband. To be honest, Erik has been a bit distant the past couple of months. At first I did not notice, but slowly I have been noticing a unexplainable gap between the two of us.

A ridiculous joke forms in my mind to shake a smile from my husband's sexy lips.

“Apparently, Mother and Father reconnected in Rome and are tempted to give their failed love affair another go. You would think they forgot the three formal dinner celebrations, four galas and my personal version that G-d must exist the moment I heard of their wonderful divorce. My pending nervous breakdown aside, do you think we should have the engagement party at home?”

I bite my lips to prevent the smirk from erupting on my face. My parents’ weeklong stay after our reception still woke Erik up from night tremors years later. This should get his attention.

“Ummm, I’ll send Scarlet over to help. Emma and Azazel are still on their vacation,” He mumbles, his eyes burning a hole into his datapad on his desk.

“Erik…”

“Good Gott!” Erik exclaims “How hard is it for those idiots to acquire one landmark!” He slams the datapad on the desk.

“ERIK!”

“Sorry love, I have some interns to strangle”

 _Transmission terminated_ flashes across the Lehmanbot telescreen _._

 

** Wednesday Morning **

My hand runs over the hollow dip in the bed. The light from the window alerts me to the early morning of the day. I turn to tackle my Germanic titan, when I realize that I was alone in my bedroom. My husband previous day clothes already discarded into the hamper.

 

** One hour later **

I should let it go. I tell myself while going over the Xavier Research Foundation scholarship committee updates. Erik is probably in the middle of creating some new engineering innovation to clutter my home with more metal.

Didn’t he understand when I had to stay on Mars for four months?

My hands grip a collection of my hair from the back of my head. You are Charles Francis Xavier. You run one of the leading labs in genetics and mutant research in the known galaxy. You speak seven languages, and hold several degrees and doctorates. You house the essence and memories of your ancestor the saintly Professor Xavier. You will not fall apart because your husband has one busy workweek. **  
**

 

**20 minutes later**

_Emma Frost is inaccessible_

**10 minutes later**

_Azazel is inaccessible_

**5 minutes later**

_Jean Grey will be away until next Monday, please feel free to leave a message_

** Wednesday: ** **Midday Telescreen Call**

“Logan?” I bite down a bubble of jealousy.

“Hey Chuck,” Logan chuckles

“Charles…for the last time, my name is Charles.”

“Whatever you say Chuckie,” Logan smirks.

“Where’s Erik?” I inquire. Logan looks over his shoulder, revealing what appears to be black and white damask wallpaper. The sound of Parisian French and sombre tones alerts me to my husband’s presence in the background. His broad back and tapered waist decorated by a lovely black wool coat.

“He’s in a meeting,” Logan replies shyly.

“I paid you enough money so that your great grandchildren can buy mansions on the moon, and now you tell me that you can’t DO what I paid you to do!!!” Erik yells. It is a testament to how eccentric the Xavier genes can be, the hellbound call of my husband’s _don’t fuck with me_ voice sends twirls of pleasure down my spine.

“Mr. Lehnsherr, please I’ve done everything in my power.” An unknown woman whines.

“Now’s not really the best time Charlie, I’ll make sure he calls you back,” Logan rushes.

“You guys would warn me before you kill anybody, won’t you?” I quip trying to keep a light tone despite by growing disgruntlement with my husband.

“First call, I swear,” Logan replies.

_Transmission terminated_

See Charles, there are no issues. Your husband is merely in Paris, probably, with his lawyer, slash unconfirmed ex boyfriend, threatening, probably, to maim, some innocent woman as one step along his path to global corporate domination. He’s not losing interest in you.

Now to find a temporary replacement for Dr. Reyes for the Mutant Fertility/Secondary Mutations Division.

Everything is fine.

 

** Wednesday Night **

“Everything is fine, Charles,” Erik says softly via Lehmanbot telescreen, “One of my designers failed to develop a design on time.” His blue grey eyes tender. I’ve missed this, actual communication. If only he was home. Over his shoulders a velvet blanket of star can be seen.

“I miss you Francine”

“Apparently, you miss your dentist as well.

Erik chuckles.

“When are you coming home tonight?” I ask him. My hearts aching to be near him.

Erik’s face becomes bashful.

“Sorry Charles, Logan and I have to work late again tonight.”

A flash of jealously spikes through me.

“Erik…I feel like I have seen you in days, and even when I do get the chance to talk to you via telescreen, you barely pay attention to our conversation to go off and do heavens knows what, with Logan!”

His head dips, and for a second I can see Logan’s cabin in the distance. And the outline of a familiar bulky sweater across Erik’s shoulders.“I promise Franny, just a couple more days.”

“Oy, Lehensherr, are we sightseeing or are we working?” Logan yells in the distance. His stocky muscular stomach in view. Shirtless.

“Can’t wait to see you Charles.”

_Transmission terminated_

* * *

 

**The last written diary entry of Charles Francis Xavier**

 

_It is at the end of my life, when I reflect on my great achievements and failures, that I realize that the greatest challenge my previous relationships and marriage have suffer came from the insecurities of my inner demons. The greatest loves so wondrous in their ability to uplift our souls, that our human frailty gets tempted to reject this gift, many people feel they are not worthy to receive. It is my greatest regret that I committed actions that rejected the greatest love that I have ever known. I should have fought harder. I know that now._

 

* * *

 

 ** Thursday: ** **Midday Telescreen Call**

 

“Sorry Charles, I’ll be home tomorrow night,” Erik pleads.

“Erik, I’m getting tired of all the smokes and daggers.”

“You know I would give you the world, if I could” Erik replies.

Agh. Sometimes my husband has the unfortunate ability to sound egomanical, when he’s trying really hard to be sweet. A failing of his Magneto blood that always has the ability to set my Xavier blood into a mood.

“Fires burning sweet cheeks” Logan calls, his hand on Erik’s shoulders.

“I’ll call you tonight” Erik promises.

_Transmission terminated_

** Thursday Evening: ** **McCOY-DARKHOLME Residence**

“I’m going out of my mind Hank!”

“Normally I would love to help you o---“ Hank, the supervisor head of all science divisions for Xavier Research Foundation, husband of my best friend Raven and long suffering father of Leo and Kurt is currently running around his kitchen with a very naked and struggling Leo in his arms.

_*Poof*_

Purple smoke fills the room as Leo jumps out of Hanks arms and into the thick mist. I move to open the nearest windows. My godson’s laughter echoes from some dark corner of the house.

“Isn’t he a little young to know how to make a smoke bomb?” I ask.

“Seems the McCoy genius genes have decide to become active"

I pull two beers out of his fridge and gesture over to the kitchen table. He smirks and takes a chair.

“Maybe they’ll trip into the bathtub” he says dreamily.

“How is the absent dictator?” I ask.

“Extremely happy, and dearly missed.” Hank replies.

“I’m surprised you haven't develop an artificial transporter room already.”

“Oh trust me I’ve been working on it for the past two month, no parent should have to face bath time duties alone” he nods his head sagely. “In all serious, she still can not believe that Erik was able to get Genosha's permission to conduct an expedition for the Citadel site in Genosha. She’s still touched that he loaned her his mother and fathers’ field logs.”

My mind recollects the night that Erik offers Raven the chance to uncover key 20th century mutant relics. Both of them so wonderfully vulnerable as they hug, the tears on Raven’s cheeks as he slides over his parents life’s work. The warm memory mellows my mood.

I feel a large blue furry arm wrap around my shoulders as Hanks move closer to me. His head leaning against my own. Of all the people in my life, I have always felt welcome to be my most natural around him.

“What are your thoughts about Logan?” I ask meekly. Ashamed.

Hank pauses for a moment, and takes a slurp of his beer.

“He’s a great lawyer, fantastic pool player and the biggest poker cheat I’ve ever seen. But…but that is not the answer you are expecting is it Charles, ask me the question that you really want answered.”

“Do you think he is still in love with Erik?” I close my eyes. The pounding in my chest lessens as I finally ask the question I never felt comfortable to ask either Erik or Logan.

To Hank’s credit he does not dismiss my concerns, nor tell me I’m crazy, instead he takes another sips of beer, and answers the question.

“Sometimes I get hints that Erik and Logan used to have a different type of relationship, neither of them will talk about it with me, and Logan nearly bit Raven’s head off the one time she tried to ask,” his arms pull me into a stronger hug, “However…the past doesn’t matter, because any fool who has seen Erik with you, or Wolverine with Jean, can clearly see that their hearts have found permanent homes elsewhere.”

I shake my head gently to dislodge the tears from my eyes, and the blush burning my cheeks.

“I know he loves me, it’s jus---“ Self doubt chokes the remaining words from my lips.

“The history that’s killing you.” Hank says while lifting his head, so I can see his lopsided beastly smile. Hank grabs my hand before I can drown my response with beer. “You mind keeps thinking about all those times you weren’t there, confused by the inside jokes and body language you can not decipher. The curiosity of not understanding why two individuals who can understand each other so well, are not together…” Hank giggles as his runs a soft blue hand down his face.

“Hank…”

Hanks swallows the next fit of giggles, “Charles, take some advice from a man who has been in your shoes, well not literally, Talk to Erik tonight, ask him to explain the history, before you let your own nonsense dominate your mind.”

“If I didn’t know for a fact that you and Raven were each others first loves, I would be curious to find out who you thought Raven was dating before you.”

The room stops as Hank just stares at me before continuing.

“Charles, you do realize that when you introduced me to Raven, you were my brilliant zillionaire playboy level 4 mutant boss with question one’s sexual orientation bedroom blue eyes, fuck me lips and came from the noblest of noble first generation mutant family.” Hank quip.

“Well…”

“Plus you you called her darling, kissed her on the lips, and then proceed to talk about some crazy night that ended on her bedroom floor.”

“I still don’t know what Tony spiked the punch with…”

“Charles!”

“Sorry, I…why didn’t you say anything?” I asked.

“You do remember that you are my boss in addition to being my friend right? Plus…Raven kind of got sick of my crap two years into our relationship, and we had very long and difficult four-hour conversation outside of a retro Denny’s. Trust me between her threats to lobotomize me in order to be with me, and blueberry pancakes, I realize I needed to get over my issues, or lose the best woman I ever met. “ Hank recollects.

“You’re a good man Hank” I said, my heart feeling at ease.

_*POOF*  
_

A tiny wet naked Kurt appears in my lap. His tail clutch in his hands, his smile eerily similar to Raven’s that time she eat all of my birthday cake, two years in a row.

“I can not wait till she comes home,” Hank groans.

“My pants would agree with you”

“Dad, I washed him!” Leo cries, proud of his accomplishment and poised to asked for monetary compensation.

 

 ** Friday: ** **Midday Telescreen Call**

“Sorry Chuck, Erik’s in the washroom, and can’t come to the telescreen at the moment.” Logan answers the call shyly.

Wait. Erik always takes his shower promptly at 6:45 am, after his morning run, just before his breakfast. The man was a machine about it, unless I threw my body into it, which only happens once in awhile…sometimes…when the urge to fuck with the universe kicks in…damn those Constantine genes.

“That it Logan, I have had enough of your and Erik’s smoke and daggers crap, wh---“ I start to yell.

“Logan!” Erik yells in the background, “ I need you to help me with this red goo on my back, I can't wash it off!”

“Sorry duty calls Chuck, he’ll be home in a couple of hours”

_Transmission Terminated_

Lucy, Erik’s favourite Lehmanbot learns to fly, out my office window.

 

** One hour later **

According to legend, Matilda Xavier once spent 12 million dollars to get a time travelling mutant to take her back for one week, so she could spend ‘time’ with the great Jim Morrison. Thankfully her adventure was motivated by carnal desire than only wish on her end to distrupt music history. Tho she did give birth nine months afterwards, to Jimmy Xavier, a quiet soul with surreally large doe shaped brown eyes and angelic voice. One Xavier was once rumoured to have paid the GDP of several European nations in order to catch a glimpse of a unicorn.

Compared to these legends, my husband’s personal transaction that he has made in the past week, lumber, a personal baker, space suits, an unnamed jewel for sums I did not know could be attribute to an inanimate object and the Eiffel Tower should not be alarming. If anything it proved that the union between the house of Magneto and Xavier was a match made in heaven. However, none of these accounts could explain why Logan got to rub red goo off my beloved’s back.

Parts of me want to laugh, to wait for Erik to come home, but Hank’s voice becomes a distant whisper, as I leave the datapad on the table and find myself entering Erik’s office across the hall from my own. The solid slick steel desk and cold metal design of the office, screaming Erik to a perfect T. Before unspeakable violence can occur, my eye latches on to a small cherry wood sidetable by the window, a relic from his childhood home that his mother loved. On it surface sits a digital picture frame displaying the day on the beach when I fell asleep too long , and my lily white skin came out looking redder than Magneto’s helmet and a velvet black watchcase. My hands open the box to reveal an ancient solid gold pocketwatch, the numbers written in roman numerals, the centre exposed, so you can watch the delicate gears move. It is a work of art. I take a breath. My heart pounds in my ears, before I allow my hand to turn it over. My hands shake from the blatant violation of Erik’s personal space. Yet my mania pushes me forward as I turn the pocketwatch over to see the back.

My tears ineffectively do not shield me from the engraving.

_“Forever yours, until all times stops and the sun blows out.”_

_Logan_

 

** Friday: Late Afternoon-Early Evening **

His eyes, I need to swim in his ponderous cerulean colour eyes. Erik thinks as he pushes in the front door and hands over his personal bag to the Lehmanbot alerted to his sudden arrival. It has been an exhilarating week. However the lack of Charles sits heavy on his shoulders.

Maybe I can seduce my special minx to massage them. A hard to suppress grin hurts my cheeks as I roam the house in search of my husband. This week with Logan, without the entourage of Emma and Azazel, turned out better than expected.

“Charles” I call into the looming museum Charles and I call home. Strange, usually Charles is on me before I come through the door, like a shaggy Labrador.“Charles,” I call again. Maybe he’s not home. Weird. His assistant said he never came into work today.

I bite my lip and head towards the kitchen. Maybe he’s pissed about me missing our mid afternoon call? The guilt of that action still burns. Perhaps I should whip up his favourite homemade mushroom pizza, with a side of champagne. A smile returns to my lips as I run my hand down my abdomen. A small pre-celebration.

I move my finger to flick on the lights with a tug of my powers, when I notice a spill of light coming forth from the kitchen.

“Francine,” I call as I open the door.

A wooden spoon telekinetically slaps my right cheek with a lover’s anger.

“You have one foot in the grave already darling, I would be careful with my word choices right now, if I were you” Charles says, his voice barely a whisper.

I force my right eye to open despite the opera crying from my cheek. Charles sits at our table, his eyes and mouth poised in ridged form, the expression of his face makes me think of a volcano on the verge of an explosion. It is a nod to my penis that it stands at attention while the logical part of me cowers in fear.

“Charles, I’m so sorry I missed your call today, I know I’ve been insanely busy this week, b—"

“ I have no problems with you being busy” he retorts.

“Ok.- then wh—“

He cuts me off, “ I can handle only speaking to you via Lehmanbot, I can handle ---“

“I’m glad ---“ the wooden spoon smacks me again.

The temperature of the room turns arctic.

“What I can not handle, is speaking to a husband, who globe trots around the world with his shirtless, sexy lumberjack ex, I think ex boyfriend, while barely telling me why you were away so much this week and barely communicating with me when I did get you on the telescreen.

“Are you talking about Logan?”

Smack. The wooden spoon breaks after hitting the back of my head.

“I thought Xaviers didn’t believe in violence!” I cried

“We’re quick learners” he says, his voice coarse and raw.

It takes a moment for my eyes to reopen. In that time a quiet settles across the room. When I do open my eyes, I see a datapad with my recent transactions on the screen on the table. The ingredients of all my week long work and plans ripped apart. The violation of my privacy, pushes my confusion into anger. The metal of the room vibrates. Before I can explode however, his left hand, heavy with the white gold wedding band I personally made for him sets down on my right arm, while his right hand gently cups the injured side of my face. His eyes wide in shock at the damage he has caused. Traces of pain tug at their corners.

“I’m so sorry Erik”

His body starts to shake, I try to pull him closer, but he moves away. His hand reaches into his pockets to reveal an old black velvet watchbox and places it on the table.

“He is more than just your friend and lawyer”

I try to protest the words coming out of his mouth, however, before I can give voice to my rebuttal, Charles uses his telekinetic powers to open the box. The pocket watch turn over for us to both read the engraving.

Charles tilts his head to the side, “May I “ he asks, I close my eyes in acceptance and I lower my mental shields so I can receive his thoughts. For the first time, I see how Charles has come to understand my relationship with Logan, and his pain, violation and anguish start to make sense. I see his uncle urging Charles to reconcile with me, after Charles broke off our engagement while they watch Logan rub my back on the telescreen. I see his unspoken discomfort at my familiarity with Logan’s cabin and his jealousy when I came down the stairs in Logan’s sweater, the same sweater he saw me wear this week for the first time in two years. I see his waiting for either Logan or I to explain our inside jokes, our unspoken conversations and our special sign language. I feel his rage at Logan’s ease with my body, the numerous times Charles had to watch him heal me after some ridiculous scheme or confrontation. Two years of questions mix in with a week of unexplained absences with a man he wishes to trust, but can't due to too much unspoken history.

In hindsight, the broken wooden spoon on the floor does not feel so bizarre anymore.

“Oh Charles, I didn’t realize…”

“I’m not him Erik, I am not the calm, cool, collected saint, who can make due with the memories of a lost love. Sometimes I wish I could be him, but in my heart, I know it could never happen.” Charles hand softly dances in my ginger hair, his eyes watery. “I know what it is like to hold you Erik, to taste the salt of your skin, to immerse myself in the orderly precise contours of your engaging mind. I can deal with past lovers Erik, but I cannot deal with a ghost, who comes to my door with no explanation of how and why. I can deal with whatever is between you and Logan, but I need to know what it is, not later, not next week, it has to be now, cause the shadow of not knowing is perverting me, it is making me into a man I can not bare to see in the mirror.”

I take a deep breath, and curl my hand against the one Charles continues to use to cup the injured side of my face. My thumb brushes his ruby lower lip, before I invite him once more into my mind. I close my physical eyes, and in a moment, both Charles and my astral bodies appear in a dark red room, a purple coach flush against one wall, while a large steel vault door looms in front of us, elfish font from my favourite childhood story etch long it’s frame. I wear my favourite black jeans with my black turtleneck. Charles appears in the light silk grey shirt of his that I love and navy blue slacks. His feet bare and his wavy brown hair, longish against his collar.

If I didn’t give him my heart and inheritance two years ago, this sight alone would encourage me to give both to him all over again.

For the first time since I came home Charles chuckles as he looks around the room. “And you wonder why I never let you decorate” he jokes.

I take his hand in mine, as I lead the both of us towards the metal vault door.

“Charles, I am not completely proud of how I acted in the past, I never talked to you about Logan, because I would have to explain who I was, for you to understand who we are to each other now.”

“Erik, to quote Raven, the fact I am not patient zero for a new sexually transmit disease is a miracle of epic proportions. What could have possibly occurred between you and Logan in the past, that would have me doubt the good man I know you to be now?” he questions. His steady voice allows me to feel the ripple of concern.

“Logan is an ex-boyfriend” I replied.

“I knew IT!”

“He is also my ex-fiancé.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please review my fanfic of a fanfic. Please read dvs awesome 'The Courtship' story!


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